


Last Chance (or) The Chosen Two

by chrmisha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Passion, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:03:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrmisha/pseuds/chrmisha
Summary: It’s the night before the final battle and Harry Potter has one last chance to act on his desires. HP/SS





	Last Chance (or) The Chosen Two

**Author's Note:**

> All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

 

“If you are going to do it, Harry, you’d better get going,” Hermione admonished, knitting needles clicking away in front of her.

“You know I think you’re completely barmy, Harry, but Hermione’s right. This may be your last chance,” Ron said, his arm wrapped securely around Hermione’s shoulder as they sat huddled on the Gryffindor common room couch in front of the fire.

“Nothing like waiting until the eleventh hour,” Ginny muttered, not looking up from _Quidditch Quarterly_.

Harry continued to pace in front of the fireplace, hands in his robe pockets, his face a riot of conflicting emotions.

Hermione glanced up, a pitying expression on her features. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Harry could get his bollocks hexed off,” Ron replied, shielding his lap in sympathy.

Ginny snorted.

Harry grimaced.

“Think of it this way, Harry,” Hermione reasoned. “Assuming we all survive tomorrow, which will you regret more? Taking a chance? Or never knowing?”

“Where’s your Gryffindor courage now?” Ginny added, a bit aggressively.

“What would Trelawney say?” Ron asked.

“That I’m doomed,” Harry replied.

“Exactly. And when has she ever been right?” Ron asked. “Based on that alone, I think you’ve got a pretty good chance at success.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry reached for his invisibility cloak. “Only one way to find out.”

* * *

He was bat-shit crazy. There was no other word for it. Who in their right mind would endeavor to do what he was about to do?

His heart was racing and he’d broken out in a light sweat. Nerves, he knew. He was going to face Voldemort tomorrow at the break of dawn in an extensively planned ambush, yet he was less nervous about the impending battle than about what he was about to do this evening.

As he made his way through Hogwarts, a plethora of scenarios filled his mind—some gory, some glorious—all seeming as unlikely as the next.

Much too soon, he reached his destination. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his sweaty palms on his robes and knocked on the forbidding wooden door.

It opened of its own accord and, when the occupant behind the desk saw him, his familiar baritone voice was accompanied by his formidable sneer.

“Potter.”

Harry swallowed, hard, and considered turning tail and abandoning his mission. Instead, heart hammering, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He was considered an adult in the Wizarding world, after all.

“Professor,” he returned. “May I come in?”

Harry held himself still under Snape’s scrutiny.

Finally, the Potions master spoke. “You may.”

Harry entered and closed the door behind him, telling himself repeatedly that he could do this. Turning back to Snape, he said, “Would you mind if we sat at your study table?” At Snape’s raised eyebrow, Harry rushed on. “I wanted to talk to you about something and it would be easier to do without a desk between us.” Harry swallowed and awaited Snape’s decision.

Snape rose silently from behind his desk and walked to the round table with four chairs positioned in one corner of his office. Harry had seen groups of students working here from time to time and, on occasion, Snape would join them, presumably to offer advice or guidance.

When Snape sat, Harry chose the chair next to him, determinedly not looking at Snape, who was surely wondering why Harry had not chosen the chair opposite, which would be more appropriate due to their antagonistic relationship.

Truth be told, though, they’d grown much less hostile over the last year as they had trained together on battle tactics, as well as defensive and offensive spells. Snape was a merciless instructor but Harry couldn’t deny that he’d learned a lot. Anyone else might have coddled him but Snape certainly had not.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Snape asked, his tone sarcastic. He folded his hands together atop the table.

Harry mimicked Snape’s gesture, resting his hands nearby. “I have a favor to ask,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. Trying to seem casual, he brushed his knuckles against Snape’s. Snape promptly moved his hand away, likely presuming the contact was accidental.

“A favor,” Snape replied, his voice deadpan, as if the mere thought of Harry Potter asking anything of him was ludicrous.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. Gathering his courage, he opened his hand and deliberately traced his fingers along the edge of one of Snape’s clasped hands and up the adjoining wrist. If Harry wasn’t so nervous, he might have laughed at the startled expression on his professor’s face.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Snape asked, his eyes wide, his voice an incredulous whisper.

 Harry let out a shaky laugh. “No. Seduction requires planning and knowledge and forethought. I just have desperation and desire and daring.” Seeing the incomprehension in Snape’s gaze, Harry forced himself to keep talking, all the while stroking the edge of Snape’s hand while Snape sat frozen beside him. “I don’t want to die a virgin, sir.”

Harry took a deep breath and went on. “I am formally asking… requesting… if you’re not opposed, that is…would you consider… if you wouldn’t mind…” Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. “Would you make love to me?” At Snape’s stunned expression, Harry added, “I don’t want a pity fuck.”

A moment of awkward silence hung between them as Harry awaited Snape’s answer as if the man were judge and jury, deciding his fate.

Finally, Snape spoke, his voice hoarse, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. “Why me?”

Harry had prepared for this question. Rehearsed his answer, even. “I want someone experienced. Someone I can trust. Someone I respect. Some who isn’t awestruck by the _Boy Who Lived_. Someone who sees _me_.”

Snape swallowed, then swallowed again. “Just to be clear,” he said, “you want me…”

“To make love to me,” Harry confirmed.

Running a hand through his hair, Snape said, “I have never been asked…”

“You don’t have to,” Harry interjected. “It was just a thought. I had to ask. This may be my last chance.”

Snape looked pensive for a long moment. Harry tried his hardest to sit still, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He didn’t know where to look, what to do. He’d come this far, surely he could survive long enough for the man to give him an answer. Assuming his heart didn’t pound out of his chest before then.

Finally, Snape opened the hand that Harry was still stroking, turned it palm up, and laced his fingers with Harry’s.

“You are sure about this?” Snape asked, his gaze piercing.

“Positive,” Harry replied, smiling tentatively and squeezing the fingers intertwined with his.

“Merlin, help me,” Snape muttered. Then he got to his feet, pulling Harry with him, and said simply, “Come with me.”

Harry followed, half-excited, half-terrified. He never really thought Snape would agree, and now that the man had, Harry felt all kinds of nervous.

Snape unlocked the door to his private quarters and led Harry inside.

“Have a seat,” Snape said, gesturing to the large sofa before turning to lock and ward his door. “You may call me Severus for the evening.”

“Thanks. Please call me Harry,” Harry said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

Snape nodded as he shrugged out of his teaching robes, leaving him in a white button-down shirt, black trousers, and black boots. “May I take your robe?”

Quickly, Harry stood and removed his robe. He handed it to Snape, who hung it beside his own on a coat rack near the door.

Turning back, Snape said, “May I offer you a drink?”

Harry gaped. Who was this courteous gentleman? Certainly not his bad-tempered, exacting Potions master, nor his merciless, formidable dueling instructor and partner.

At Snape’s raised eyebrow, Harry blurted out, “Yes, please.”

Harry swore he saw the corner of Snape’s mouth turn up, but the man had turned away too quickly to be sure.

Wringing his hands, Harry watched as Snape opened a bottle of brandy and poured two fingers of the bronze liquid into two crystal tumblers. He handed one to Harry and then sat beside him on the couch. Raising his glass, Snape said, “To first times.”

Blushing, Harry repeated Snape’s words and clinked his glass with Snape’s. In his nervousness and haste, Harry took a large gulp. It burned a path down his throat, causing him to cough and splutter.

Snape slapped him on the back until Harry stopped coughing. “Tis better to sip slowly then drink it all at once, especially if you are not used to hard liquor.”

“Now you tell me,” Harry muttered, his eyes watering.

Snape merely smirked at him. “Are you hungry?”

Harry glanced at him from underneath his lashes. “I could eat,” he admitted. In all of his fantasies of Snape saying yes to his request, this was not how he had envisioned the night going. He would have expected Snape to take him straight to bed and get on with it. Or something. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be wined and dined, not from Snape anyway.

Seeming to sense his confusion, Snape placed a hand on Harry’s knee and squeezed lightly. “The night is young, Harry. There’s no need to rush.”

Harry nodded and felt his cheeks flush once again.

Snape got up from the sofa and stuck his head into the flames. A few moments later, a large platter of food and a flagon of pumpkin juice appeared on Snape’s coffee table.

“Thanks,” Harry said, picking up a sandwich and munching on it. “Are you ready for tomorrow, sir?” Harry asked. He really hadn’t wanted to bring up the impending battle, but he couldn’t think of anything else to talk about.

“As ready as one can be in these matters. And you?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. Best get it over with, I guess.” Harry finished his sandwich and poured himself a cup of juice, almost spilling it. He kept waiting for Snape to criticize him.

“Relax, Harry. I won’t bite,” Snape said.

Harry nearly choked on his juice. “Sorry, sir. This is just a bit awkward for me.”

“You don’t say?” Snape teased. Snape’s expression turned more serious then. “We can stop at any time. You don’t have to go through with this.”

“I want to,” Harry said. _I need to_ , is what he was thinking.

“Even so,” Snape continued. “Should you change your mind, at any point this evening, I will not be offended.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Snape nodded and set down his drink. “May I remove your eyeglasses?”

Harry nodded, watching as Snape reached toward him and lifted them gently off his face, before folding them and setting them aside.

Snape was looking at him intently, as if trying to read something in his eyes. As Snape’s scrutiny continued, Harry bit his lower lip, unsure of how to proceed.

Snape brushed his knuckles down Harry’s cheek, then ran a finger along Harry’s lips, pulling Harry’s lower lip from between his teeth, and smoothing the slight indent with his finger.

“Come here,” Snape said, his voice soft.

Harry put his drink on the table and scooted closer, his heart fluttering madly in his chest.

“You have the most beautiful green eyes,” Snape said softly as he gazed into them.

Harry swallowed, staring back steadily into Snape’s darker ones. “So do you,” he murmured, marveling at how expressive the man’s eyes were at this close range.

Snape leaned forward slowly, closing the distance between them.

Harry held his breath.

Then Snape placed gentle lips against his own.

A needy sound escaped from the back of Harry’s throat. Heat blossomed in his cheeks; he hadn’t meant to do that. Then Snape’s tongue was tracing Harry’s lips. Harry gasped at the sensation of warm wetness and opened his mouth, meeting Snape’s tongue with his own. On a sigh, he titled his head sideways, inadvertently deepening the kiss. Snape’s hand slid around Harry’s neck and into his hair and Harry’s eyes slid shut as he lost himself in the unexpectedly gentle yet sensuous kiss.

They kissed for long moments, and Harry felt his nerves receding. This wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was quite good. Snape knew how to kiss, and Harry hoped he knew how to do other things equally well.

“Lean back and close your eyes,” Snape said in a soft, inviting voice.

Harry promptly obeyed, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles as he leaned back against the sofa, his neck perfectly cradled by the cushions. He let his eyelids slide shut once again as Snape’s fingers traced along his jawbone and down his neck to his collarbone. Harry shivered at the touch.

“Cold?” Snape asked.

Harry shook his head. He nearly jumped when he felt soft, warm lips nibbling at the juncture of his neck and shoulder as Snape’s—no Severus’s—fingers continued their feather-light exploration across his chest and abdomen overtop the shirt Harry wore. Then those lips were placing gentle kisses along the column of Harry’s neck, and the man’s other hand had begun stroking the top of his thigh. Harry felt his body respond with eagerness.

“You taste like sunshine,” Severus murmured against his throat, and Harry felt warmth pool in his stomach at the deep timbre of Severus’s voice combined with the sensation of lips and tongue on his neck and hands ghosting over his clothes.

Harry lowered his head, eyes still closed, seeking Severus’s lips, finding them, kissing them. He opened his mouth and Severus’s tongue slipped inside, finding his, eliciting a soft moan from both of them.

It wasn’t like the girls he’d snogged—wet and wearisome—but then he’d long since discovered he’d preferred boys over girls. And, as his tongue danced with Severus’s much more skilled one, he soon realized he preferred men over boys.

Pulling back from the exquisite kiss, his eyelids sliding open, Harry asked, “You want this? Want me?”

At Severus’s confused look, Harry asked, “You aren’t just doing this for me? Because I asked you to? I mean… you don’t find me… this… repulsive? Do you?”

Severus gazed steadily at Harry, his eyes bright. “You are a fine looking young man, Harry. I am not dead, you know.”

Harry grinned. That was nearly a declaration of love from Severus Snape! Then he launched himself at at the man and kissed him in earnest, giving and taking with all that he had. To know that Severus wanted him too was beyond intoxicating. It blocked out his nervousness and drove his desire to new heights.

As Severus’s fingers continued to tease and explore over his clothing, Harry found himself less and less in control of his reactions. The man’s touch was exquisite, setting his nerves alight and making him yearn for more.

_This_ is what Harry had wanted to experience. This sense of giving himself over to someone who knew what they were doing. Who knew how to touch him, how to turn him on, how to make him forget everything but the sensations inflaming his body; something he’d never experienced with anyone his own age, male or female.

When the man’s fingers ghosted over his erection, Harry nearly rocketed off the couch. He uncrossed his ankles and spread his legs wide in silent encouragement.

“So eager,” Severus murmured against Harry’s tongue, and then Severus slipped his tongue from Harry’s mouth and kissed his way down Harry’s neck, his hands tugging at the hem of Harry’s T-shirt. Harry obliged, leaning forward and raising his arms so Severus could pull the fabric up over his head, leaving his chest exposed to Severus’s wickedly delightful mouth. When Severus tongued and then lightly nibbled a nipple, Harry groaned, rotating his hips in a silent plea for more.

“Patience, young one,” Severus breathed against Harry’s heated skin.

Harry let his head fall back against the sofa once more, hands clenched at his sides, as Severus’s lips kissed a trail down Harry’s abdomen and agile fingers flicked open the button on his trousers. Harry raised his hips, allowing Severus to slide the trousers over his bum and down his legs. When Harry slid his hands down to remove his pants as well, Severus stilled them, clasping Harry’s hands in his as he continued kissing a path down to Harry hips.

Harry bit his lip, willing himself to be patient, willing himself _not_ to begin thrusting into the air as Severus kissed and nipped along his hip bone, then the top of his thigh, before burying his large nose between Harry’s legs and inhaling deeply.

It was embarrassing and arousing all at once.

Harry caught his breath as Severus rubbed his cheek along Harry’s cloth-covered erection. Then a warm mouth ghosted hot breath over him and Harry bucked upward, unable to prevent the need that thrummed through his veins.

Large hands slid to Harry’s hips, holding him still, as Severus mouthed Harry’s erection through his pants.

“Severus…” Harry breathed, the man’s name a plea on his swollen lips.

Seeming to understand, Snape’s fingers slid to the elastic waistband of his pants, tugging gently. Harry raised himself up, allowing them to be slid off, freeing his needy erection. Snape kept sliding Harry’s pants down his legs, removing Harry’s shoes and socks along with trousers and pants, leaving Harry completely naked for the taking.

“Let me look at you,” Severus breathed, his voice a deeper than Harry’d ever heard before.

Harry opened his eyes and watched as his normally controlled professor raked his eyes over Harry’s body, lust gleaming from their depths.

“Incredible,” Snape declared. “I wonder if you taste as good as you look.”

Harry nearly moaned at the inciting words as he gazed at the man perched between his legs, large hands on Harry’s thighs for balance. When Severus glanced up, Harry caught his breath at the depth and intensity of longing radiating from the man’s gaze. Then Severus placed the tip of his tongue behind Harry’s bollocks and laved a trail of wet heat over the wrinkly skin, to the base of Harry’s hard cock, and all the way to the tip, his gaze still locked with Harry’s. Eyes wide with wonder and wanting, Harry let out a long, low moan. No one had ever done this to him before; he’d only ever read about it, only ever imagined how amazing it would feel.

When Severus snaked his tongue into Harry’s slit, Harry jerked and cried out at the intense sensation. It bordered on too much, but felt amazing nonetheless.

“Severus…” Harry breathed, trying to keep himself from thrusting at Snape in a silent plea for more.

“You taste divine,” Snape murmured, licking Harry’s slit again and again, lapping up the beads of pre-cum there.

Before Harry could respond to that statement, Snape had taken him fully into his mouth, causing Harry to cry out and thrust mindlessly into Severus’s mouth.

“Mmmm….” Severus hummed, and Harry jerked again, clenching his fists at the over-the-top pleasure. The feeling was beyond exquisite, beyond anything Harry had ever experienced, much less been able to conjure in his fertile wank-inspired imagination.

“Oh,” Harry breathed, trying not to thrust too eagerly into Severus’s mouth. But the things Severus was doing to him! His world coalesced into a single point of stimulation—the wet, warm heat of Severus’s lips and tongue and mouth, caressing him and working his cock, driving him to erotic distraction.

Harry threaded his hand into Severus hair, clutching at the man; an anchor in the storm as Harry jerked and writhed and cried out at the exquisite torture that was his first blowjob.

“Oh! Severus!”

And then Snape pulled off of him, his heated gaze raking over Harry once more.

Harry felt stunned at the pleasure and disappointed at the loss of it. He’d been so close. He wanted more. He was panting, keening with need, his hips undulating of their own accord, his gaze locked with Severus’s.

Then his eyes widened as Severus slide his index and middle finger into his mouth, sucking them as he had sucked Harry. It was obscene and tantalizing and immensely arousing all at once.

“Fuck…” Harry breathed, mesmerized by the site of Snape fellating his own fingers. Harry thrust his hips into thin air, feeling envious of those fingers.

“I want you,” Harry said. “Oh Merlin, how I want you, Severus.”

Severus released his fingers from his mouth with a pop and a smirk, and then descended upon Harry once more.

It didn’t take Harry long to realize that the brief interlude had taken him from the brink of orgasm one step back, allowing the pleasure and need to build up all over again. The sensations were even more intense, more enticing, the pressure of release building even deeper and stronger inside him.

He rocked into Snape’s willing mouth, his breath coming in short bursts, his muscles clenching, his hands holding onto Snape’s hair for dear life.

“Oh,” Harry cried out, his eyes squeezed shut, wanting, needing, to reach the pinnacle.

“Severus, I’m close. Sev…” he said, tugging at the man’s hair. Surely he didn’t mean to let Harry come in his mouth, did he?

The worry of that momentarily distracted him until he felt Severus’s wet fingers sliding over his bollocks, skating across the sensitive skin behind, and farther back, teasing his puckered opening.

“Severus?” Harry asked, shaking with need, barely able to hold a conscious thought in his mind.

And then Harry was taken even deeper into Snape’s mouth, to the back of the man’s throat, in a rhythm that heralded the end of conscious thought entirely as intense pleasure overwhelmed him. When a warm, wet finger unexpectedly breached his entrance, his world exploded.

Harry shouted out his release, incoherent to all but the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt in his short life racing through his body. He arched into it, riding the wave for all it was worth, jerking and shuddering into the wet heat that had clamped around him. It seemed to go on forever and ever. He reveled in the sensation, in the pleasure, both physical and mental, erasing everything but this intensely intimate moment in time.

Ever so slowly, he came back down to earth, panting heavily, his body limp. His eyes still closed, he felt Severus lean against him, the coarseness of the fabric of the man’s clothes rubbing against Harry’s oversensitized body as Severus placed kisses up his abdomen and chest, along his shoulder, to his neck and jaw.

When Harry could finally speak, he turned to the man who had so successfully brought him to the most intense, most incredible climax he’d ever had. “Bloody hell!”

Severus smiled. Really, truly smiled.

Harry stared, completely dumbstruck. He’d never see the man smile before. The change it wrought was stunning. It muted the harsh lines and took the focus away from his overlarge nose, transforming Severus’s whole face into something of transcendental beauty.

Harry smashed his lips over Severus’s, overcome with the intensity of his emotions. He kissed Severus in thanks, in wonder, in worship. Then he kissed him some more, just because he could. By the time they broke apart, the bitter taste of his own seed on Severus’s tongue had faded away.

“I take it you enjoyed that,” Severus said, his voice gruff with amusement.

“How could I not?” Harry asked. He reached out and ran his hand through Severus’s silky locks, his eyes taking in every detail of his once-hated professor’s face. He could never hate this man again, not after seeing a completely different side to him. One he quite liked.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Harry murmured as he pulled Severus’s face back to his, kissing him once more.

“Perhaps you should rectify that,” Severus said against his lips.

“Your wish is my command,” Harry said cheekily. He slid a hand boldly down Snape’s chest, coming to rest on Severus’s cloth-covered erection and squeezing lightly.

Severus hissed and grabbed Harry’s hand, pressing it harder against his heated flesh. “My bedroom, now,” Severus said, taking Harry’s wandering hand in his and leading the way.  

Harry followed eagerly, giddy at the prospect of what lay ahead. If making love was anything like he’d just experienced, he thought he’d lose his mind. Suddenly he understood why boys spent all their time fantasizing about sex. It was bloody brilliant so far, and they’d only just begun. He hadn’t even got to see Severus naked yet, and suddenly he couldn’t wait.

Once inside Severus’s bedroom, Harry sat on the bed and pulled Severus to him so that the older man was standing between his legs. He looked up and grinned. “I think I like this position,” Harry said, nuzzling his face into Severus’s groin, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Severus’s arousal.

Severus groaned. “Get on with it, then.”

Harry pulled back, still smiling. “Yes, sir.”

Reaching up, Harry unbuttoned the starched white shirt, revealing patches of pale flesh dusted with dark hair. As soon as he got to the lower buttons, he added kisses to the newly revealed skin, delighted as Severus sucked in a breath every time Harry’s lips and tongue touched the man. It was a heady feeling being able to elicit that sort of reaction out of the normally stoic man.

Once all of the buttons were undone, Severus shrugged out of his shirt, standing before Harry in his black trousers, his erection prominently jutting against the fabric.

Harry brushed his knuckles along Severus’s long length, earning him a satisfying groan from above. He made quick work of unbuckling Severus’s belt and undoing button and zipper to reveal black satin boxers.

“Oh,” Harry breathed. “I’d fantasized about what type of pants you wore.”

Severus made a choking sound and Harry glanced up. “What?” Harry asked. “You thought I just came to you out of the blue? Of course I fantasized about you.”

“Harry…” Severus said, his voice sounding strangled.

Grinning, Harry returned to his task. “I want to see you, Severus. I want to touch you, taste you… all of you,” Harry said, sliding pants and trousers to Severus’s ankles. As Severus bent over to untie and remove his boots, Harry admired Severus’s muscular back that tapered into the inviting curve of his arse. Unable to resist the temptation, Harry leaned forward and nipped at the rounded flesh, causing Severus to jerk and then glare at Harry.

“You were hiding an amazing body under all those layers, Severus. You’d look so hot in skin-tight leathers.”

Severus snorted as he kicked off his remaining clothes and stalked back to the bed.

Harry sat back, taking in the gloriously naked man before him. “Even better than I imagined,” he said, sliding his hands up the man’s hairy thighs to his protruding hipbones and then up his sides. Severus’s skin rippled beneath Harry’s fingers, spurring Harry on.

Feeling daring, Harry flicked out his tongue, tasting the bead of pre-cum that bounced eagerly at eye level.

Severus groaned and fisted his hands at his side.

“You got to do this, let me have a turn,” Harry said, licking Severus’s turgid shaft, feeling it strain toward him. Harry slid his hands to man’s bollocks, weighing them, caressing them, before he took Severus’s erection in one hand and guided it into his mouth. He’d never done this before, but it felt sublime—hot and hard, yet velvet soft—and it tasted even better. He tried various techniques, licking and kissing along the hard shaft, sliding his tongue between foreskin and tip, gathering up the salty precome, then finally taking Severus’s cock deep into his mouth and sucking in earnest.

The rocking motion of Severus’s hips along with the sounds the man was making only drove Harry on as he sucked and tasted and moaned with pleasure.

“Enough!” Snape gasped as he pushed Harry away, his hands on Harry’s shoulders to hold him at bay.

“What?” Harry asked, glancing upward.

“If you don’t stop that, you will still be a virgin by the time this night is over,” Severus said, his voice ragged.

It took a moment for Harry to realize what Snape was saying. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Don’t be,” Severus replied, pushing Harry back onto the bed, where he proceeded to silence Harry with kisses. Kisses that eventually migrated from Harry’s lips to his chin to his neck. Kisses that proceeded to explore his chest, tease his nipples, taste his belly button. Kisses that reminded Harry just how amazing Severus’s mouth felt on his rapidly reawakening cock. Kisses that continued downward, licking his bollocks, and stroking his perineum. Kisses that soon had Harry sobbing with renewed need. Kisses that distracted Harry from protesting when Severus slid Harry’s feet back on the bed by his ankles, until his heels were nearly touching his buttocks and he was spread wide for the taking.

When Severus’s tongue dipped further back, licking at his entrance, Harry jerked, partially in mortification (how well had he washed before he came here this evening?) and partially in unexpected pleasure.

Severus moaned and hummed with satisfaction, putting Harry at ease. Severus’s hands had released Harry’s ankles and taken to spreading Harry wide as his tongue nudged its way inside.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry exclaimed, letting his legs fall open even further. He hadn’t imagined this, hadn’t imagined Snape of all people being willing to do something like this to him.

Severus’s hands kneaded Harry’s buttocks as the man’s tongue probed deeper inside of him.

Harry wanted to push down onto that tongue, to urge it in further. It was an unexpectedly amazing feeling.

As if sensing his growing need, Severus shifted and Harry heard a drawer being pulled open. Then a tub of some sort of was pressed into his hand. Harry looked at it for a moment before realizing what it was. He twisted off the cap and handed the jar of golden lubricant back to Severus. A moment later, a slick finger slid in beside the tongue, making Harry moan wantonly and buck off the bed.

He thought he heard Severus chuckle, and he blushed at his inexperience. Before he could feel too embarrassed, though, that hot tongue was doing wicked things to his hole and another finger was sliding in beside the first. The dual sensations of heat and slipperiness, along with the knowledge of what Severus was doing to him, was _going_ to do to him, drove his arousal, as well as the sounds escaping him, to new heights.

He felt Severus’s tongue slide out of him as another finger was added. The fingers glided in and out as Severus licked all around them, before settling on probing his perineum and licking the underside of his bollocks. Harry had never imagined such a thing could feel so bloody good. It was all he could do to keep himself from writhing and begging for more. He didn’t want it to stop, and yet he did. He wanted Severus inside of him, all of him, but he couldn’t help pushing back against those delicious fingers, urging them deeper still.

“Severus…” he breathed, a plea if ever there was one.

Harry felt the bed dip as Severus knelt beside his hip, his fingers still inside Harry, his erection straining toward him. Severus’s face was flushed, his eyes dark and wide, his lips moist and swollen. His voice was gravelly when he asked, “Are you ready?”

Harry licked dry lips and nodded. He was mesmerized by the burning desire he saw reflected back at him. His hips pushed against the fingers inside him, savoring the feeling.

“Will you do the honors?” Severus asked, handing the jar of lubricant to Harry with his free hand.

Harry grinned. “I’d love to.”

“I thought you might,” Severus replied.

Harry scooped up the viscous, gold substance and coated Severus’s erection liberally with it. He kept adding more until Severus growled and pushed his hand away.

“Should I get on my hands and knees?” Harry asked.

“No,” Snape said, his voice hoarse. “I want to see you when you come.”

_Oh_. That thought, along with the stark hunger shining from Snape’s eyes, made Harry’s stomach do summersaults. “I want to see you come, too,” he whispered.

Severus groaned and yanked a pillow down from the top of the bed. He nudged Harry’s hip, and Harry raised himself up obediently as Severus slid the pillow beneath him.

“Wrap your ankles around my neck,” Severus directed.

Harry did so and their eyes met as Severus slid his three fingers out of Harry and slid himself in instead.

“Oh,” Harry breathed, eyes wide. “Oh, Severus…” Whatever he thought it would be like, it wasn’t _this._ He’d heard it would be painful. He’d heard it would feel strange, foreign, uncomfortable. But Severus had prepared him well—there was no pain at all. Just a feeling a fullness that quickly dissolved into a feeling of being completed, filled, made whole. “You…” Harry stammered. “I… This…”

Severus leaned over, claiming his words as he crushed his lips to Harry’s, bending Harry in two as he kissed him.

Harry returned the kisses passionately, relishing the feeling of belonging, of being completely and utterly one with the man above him, _in_ him.

“All right?” Severus asked against Harry’s lips, pulling back just enough to allow Harry to answer.

“Bloody brilliant,” Harry replied. “Feels good, amazing... I…”

Severus swallowed Harry’s words once again, distracting Harry with his tongue and his desire. When Severus finally pulled back, his gaze meeting Harry’s, Harry felt the world fall out from under him. This man, whoever he was, was not “Snape” at all. This man was “Severus.” This man’s eyes spoke volumes—spoke of pain and loss and desire, hope and need and benediction. This man was someone Harry desperately wanted, and wanted to get to know as well, after all was said and done.

“Ready?” Severus breathed.

Harry nodded, having no idea what could possibly feel better than this.

Until Severus started moving, slowly at first, a gentle, shallow glide, in and out.

“Oh,” Harry murmured, his eyes wide.

Severus smiled and Harry was lost.

* * *

“This… you… oh, Merlin… Severus!” Harry was losing his mind. Sensations ricocheted through his body, through his mind, each one driving him higher, as Severus moved inside him. It was too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

Experimenting with the sensations his and Severus’s joined bodies could create, Harry shifted, raised himself up, rocked his pelvis experimentally.

Severus’s fingers tightened on Harry’s hips.

Harry squeezed his inner muscles.

Severus made a startled noise and squeezed his eyes shut, his face contorted into a pained expression.

Harry froze. “Did I hurt you?”

Severus opened his eyes. The look of naked hunger there took Harry’s breath away. He had never before been looked at like that—with desire so intense and so strong it could ignite everything around them.

“If you keeping doing that, I will lose control,” Snape ground out. In a gentler voice, he added, “I want to show you something first.”

Harry tried to keep still as Severus adjusted his angle, thrusting experimentally each time he moved. Harry wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish, until Severus thrust inside him and Harry shouted at the intense burst of pleasure that jolted wildly through him.

“Bloody hell, what was…”

But Severus thrust _there_ again, and again, a look of wild abandon on his face.

Harry’s words were lost on a stream of incoherent moans and babble as ecstasy rocked his body with each delicious thrust.

This time when Harry’s muscles clamped around Severus, Severus growled and sped up, thrusting hard and deep, over and over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Harry babbled, his head thrown back, his back arching. A slick, warm hand wrapped around his erection and Harry screamed, unable to hold back, as thick jets of fluid coated his stomach and Severus’s hand. “Oh my fucking God!” Harry arched into the sensation, seeking every last drop of pleasure, holding on as long as he could.

“Holy shit,” he panted, his heart racing, as he tried to catch his breath and wrap his head around the phenomenal orgasm Severus had just given him. It took him a moment, but when his brain finally reconnected with his body, he realized that Severus was watching him intently.

Breathless and a bit confused, Harry said, “Did you…?”

Harry felt Severus’s cock twitch inside of him.

“Aren’t you going to finish?” Harry asked.

“I was enjoying the sight of you,” Snape said, thrusting gently into Harry. “And, if I recall, you said you wanted to watch me as well.”

“Oh,” Harry breathed, his eyes widening in understanding and anticipation. “Yes, yes, I do.”

Snape began moving again using only gentle thrusts at first.

Harry relaxed, relishing the feel of Severus inside of him. It was tender and intimate, and most of all, it felt incredibly _right_. He liked how Severus felt inside of him, and he liked how he felt with Severus inside of him. And after the incredible pleasure the man had given him, Harry wanted nothing more than to give it right back.

He looked up into Severus’s eyes, recognizing that the man was holding back for his sake.

“You can let go,” Harry said. “You won’t hurt me. Promise.”

Harry canted his hips upward to give Severus better access.

“I want you to come too, Severus,” Harry said. To emphasize his wishes, he squeezed his internal muscles as hard as he could, released them, and squeezed again. That was all it took.

Severus howled and pounded into him, eyes wild, fingers digging into Harry’s hips. The only word that came to mind to describe Snape’s expression was _rapture_. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and so erotic in all his life.

“Yes,” Harry encouraged, squeezing his internal muscles as he tipped his hips up and back, allowing Severus to drive in even deeper. Severus keened, his eyes clenched shut, his face screwed up in pleasure.

“Yes, Severus, yes,” Harry breathed. “I love how you feel inside of me. I want to feel you come inside of me. Please.”

“Oh, fuck,” Severus breathed, thrusting even faster at Harry’s words.

“Come for me,” Harry urged, his gaze feasting on the incredibly arousing sight of Severus Snape bucking into him with oblivion.

“Harry. Fuck! Harry!”

Severus thrust hard once, twice more, and the animalistic sound that escaped him at the apex was music to Harry’s ears. Severus held Harry to him as he stilled inside him, filling Harry over and over. Harry squeezed hard, holding on as he coaxed the pulsing, twitching cock inside of him to the highest of peaks.

“Yessss,” Harry breathed, savoring Severus’s climax as if it were his own.

When Severus opened his eyes, the look of raw vulnerability and redemption there would have frightened Harry if he didn’t feel the exact same way.

A moment later, Severus collapsed on top of him.

Harry let out a sound that was caught between a laugh and a sob. Pure joy filled his heart.

When Severus finally gathered the strength to raise his head, he cocked an eyebrow at Harry.

“You are amazing,” Harry said, smiling. “Simply amazing.”

Severus grunted and dropped his head back onto Harry’s chest.

Harry wrapped his arms around the man and held on tight.

* * *

It was still dark when Harry awoke. He flexed his muscles—all of them—and was surprised to find he wasn’t even sore. That thought made him both happy and sad. He wouldn’t have minded the reminder of their lovemaking. For lovemaking it had truly been. When he’d asked Snape to make love to him, he’d never imagined the man actually would. Even if Snape had agreed, Harry’d envisioned a quick, hard coupling, followed by Harry being kicked out. _Deed done, virginity lost, now get out of my sight_.

He’d never imagined the slow, gentle, easy way Severus had been with him, seeing to his comfort and his pleasure as if Harry was actually precious to him. He had never seen the man as quite human before, not until he’d asked Severus to take him to bed and Severus had done so with a tenderness that surprised Harry.

Harry wondered if the man hadn’t thought that this was his last chance, too, to experience the incredible pleasure that was making love. The intimate and undeniable experience of being joined to another human being, lost to the throes of passion and caught up in a vulnerability so complete, if only temporary, that it was as humbling and it was compelling.

Harry sighed, half with contentment, half with regret. Everything between them had changed, irrevocably, at least in Harry’s mind. It wouldn’t have had to. If Severus had just fucked him and sent him on his way, the course of their lives would not have been altered. But Severus hadn’t. Harry wasn’t sure just how much Severus knew he had let slip: how expressive the man’s eyes were, how easily Harry could read the emotions that the man either hadn’t bothered to conceal, or wasn’t able to. Harry guessed that Severus had let slip more than he’d intended because he, too, thought it had been his last chance to live before his impending demise. Either way, Harry was thankful. He’d hate to be the only one feeling this way.

He imagined Severus would try and deny it, for Harry’s sake as well as his own. If neither survived the battle, it wouldn’t matter. But if only one survived, it would be easier to think that their one night of passion was nothing more than a quick tumble in the sack. Harry debated letting it stand as that in case he died but Severus survived.

There had to be a middle ground.

As much as he wanted to make love to Severus again, there wasn’t time. He needed to get dressed and get ready. And so did Severus. Sighing in regret, he untangled their limbs, freeing himself from the man’s embrace. They’d spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, sleeping against all odds, comforted in the knowledge that, for at least this one night, they’d found everything they’d wanted and needed. It was more than Harry could have asked for if this were to be his last day on earth.

Harry leaned forward and kissed Severus’s temple. “Wake up, love,” Harry whispered.

No response.

Harry ran a hand through Severus’s silky hair, pushing it away from his face. He no longer saw the harsh lines of a formidable opponent. All he could see now was the face of his lover. He leaned forward and kissed the man on the lips.

“Severus,” he whispered, “wake up.”

Slowly, Severus opened his eyes. Then his eyelids flew wide. “Harry?”

Harry ran his hand down Severus’s arm. “I’m here.”

Severus shook himself. “Last night… it really… happened? I thought it was a dream.”

“A dream come true,” Harry said. “It was real. _Is_ real. I’m here.”

Severus stared at him for long moments before grabbing Harry by the shoulders and pulling him into a desperate kiss.

Harry kissed the man back, just as desperately, wishing he could hold onto this moment forever.

Finally, reluctantly, Harry pulled away. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

“I’d rather stay.”

“I know.”

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, his head in the palm of his hand. He reached out to stroke Severus’s sleep-warmed face, feeling the stubble of the man’s morning beard. It made his heart ache to know this might be the very last time he got to touch the man like this.

“Promise me something,” Harry said, gazing intently into the bottomless dark eyes. “If we both live, promise me you’ll let me come back here and we can continue this, whatever it is.”

“Harry,” Snape said, his voice full of both fondness and exasperation. “Your whole life has been a series of ill-thought-out, impulsive acts…”

“If I wanted a quick shag, I could have found one anywhere,” Harry interrupted, bristling. “I wanted you, Severus. I wanted it to be you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. It just took my impending death to give me the bollocks to come to you.”

Severus looked startled at the revelation.

“If we both live through this,” Harry said again, staring into Severus’s eyes and willing him to see the truth there, “I want it to be you. Only you.”

Severus let out a deep breath, his expression becoming shuttered. “Harry, I’m not the…”

Harry silenced Severus with his lips. Finally pulling back, his gaze searing, Harry whispered, “Promise me.”

When Severus still hesitated, Harry growled, his eyes flashing. With a fierceness and determination that echoed through every word and every cell in his body, Harry hissed, “ _Give me a reason to survive_.”

Severus paled. Then he pulled Harry against his chest, wrapping one arm tightly around Harry’s back while burying his other hand in Harry’s hair. “I promise, Harry,” he said, whispering the words against Harry’s ear. “I promise.”

* * *

_THE STRANGE STORY OF THE BOY HERO AND THE FORMER DEATH EATER_

_by Heather Penright, Daily Prophet Correspondent_

By all rights, they should be dead.

The ambush began at dawn. Members of the now legendary Order of the Phoenix infiltrated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s stronghold in an attack as brilliant as it was unexpected. In a battle that raged for hours, witnesses say that Harry Potter and Severus Snape never left each other’s side. Reports indicate that Order members surrounded the duo and protected them as they fought their way through the wall of Death Eaters protecting You-Know-Who. It is unclear if that was originally the plan. Some say it was only Harry Potter who was meant to be shielded and advanced to the Dark Lord. Yet if there were any doubts as to believed-Death-Eater Severus Snape’s true allegiance, no one could question his commitment to the Light after the events that followed.

In the midst of the ongoing battle, a core group of Order members managed to advance Potter and Snape to You-Know-Who himself, at which point witnesses report that the Order members formed a loose semi-circle around the duo. Then, in a move believed to be the brainchild of Albus Dumbledore, they cast a sphere of magical energy to encase the notorious trio, preventing any outside interference from what was to happen next.

As the protective sphere shielded all noise, no one is quite certain what was said. Still, the watching Order members and Aurors reported that immediately after the sphere formed, Harry Potter and Severus Snape clasped hands, a joint force fighting against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A fierce battle soon commenced inside the bubble, one that ultimately ended in an explosion of magical power so intense that it blew the protective sphere apart and left the Dark Lord, and all those who carried his mark, dead on the battle field. All except Harry Potter and Severus Snape who were found twenty feet outside the bubble, their marked flesh—Harry Potter’s famous lightning-bolt scar and Severus Snape’s Dark Mark—flayed wide and smoking, their hands still linked together.

Realizing the war had been won, medics rushed onto the field to tend to the injured, war heroes Harry Potter and Severus Snape their top priority.

“The cursed scar on Potter’s forehead had been blasted open to the bone,” Healer Gentry reported. “And Snape’s forearm, where the Dark Mark once was, looked like a bomb had exploded.”

Against medical advice, Albus Dumbledore refused to allow Potter and Snape to be transported to St. Mungo’s, instead insisting that they be treated at Hogwarts’ much-less-well-equipped infirmary under the supervision of Healer Poppy Pomfrey. Dumbledore cited security and privacy as his reasons, stating that St. Mungo’s healers could just as easily attend to the war heroes at the school. It is this reporter’s opinion that Dumbledore chose this unorthodox course of action to control access to the heroes and to protect their hoped-for recovery. For it is unclear as to whether or not they _will_ recover.

The few members of the public who have been allowed in to see them report that Potter and Snape remain in an unexplained coma, unresponsive to the world around them. Their extensive injuries have long since been healed. Harry Potter had lost a kidney and the fingers on his wand hand, Severus Snape had lost a lung and an eye. Both men required skin- and nerve-regrowth treatments for their cursed marks that had been blasted apart when the Dark Lord fell. One witness reports that no trace of those marks mar their skin any longer. And yet, the two men lay side-by-side, insensate, hands still clasped—unable to be separated by magical or Muggle means.

“You get a right shock if you try to separate them,” Healer Devindo reported wryly, rubbing his hand against his robes at the remembered sting of magic. “Best just to leave them be and work around it.”

As we enter the third week of celebrations in this post-apocalyptic world, one is left to wonder if the two heroes who brought us this freedom will ever wake up to reap the rewards of their labors. Perhaps Dumbledore was right after all to keep them entombed in Hogwarts. Where better to keep prying eyes away from The Chosen Two?

* * *

“Harry.”

“Severus.”

The two men awoke at precisely the same moment, voices rough from disuse, dark eyes meeting emerald ones. Harry grinned. Severus shook his head.

“You are like a cat with nine lives,” Severus commented.

“And you always manage to save me,” Harry replied.

Severus raised their linked hands in question and Harry shrugged. “I cast a spell during the battle so we couldn’t be separated. I guess it held.”  

“Only you,” Severus murmured.

Harry stretched, not letting go of Severus’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiff,” Severus replied.

“I wonder what day it is,” Harry said, staring around the darkened and otherwise empty infirmary. “Glad they kept us at Hogwarts.”

Harry heard Severus’s fingers scrabbling on the bedside table. Then bright numbers hung in the air between them.

“Huh, we’ve been out for three weeks,” Harry observed.

When Severus didn’t respond, Harry looked over to see the man in question staring, dumbfounded, at his left arm.

“Severus?” Harry asked.

Mutely, Severus turned his arm to show Harry his unmarked flesh. Then Severus’s eyes darted to Harry’s forehead.

Reaching up, Harry ran his fingers over his forehead, finding only smooth, scar-less flesh. “I guess he’s really gone then,” Harry said.

“It seems so.”

“I could use a long, hot shower,” Harry said.

“Salazar Slytherin had a large private bath chamber built that is heated by an underground hot spring. I happen to have the password.”

“Do you?” Harry asked, his eyes alight with interest. “What are we waiting for, then?”

With a flick of his wand, Severus transfigured their hospital gowns into respectable, if simple, robes. Then they left the hospital wing hand-in-hand and made their way to the dungeons.

Come morning, the castle was in an uproar over the disappearance of their Potions master and their boy hero.

The search wasn’t called off until mid-morning, when Dumbledore had finally managed to breach Severus Snape’s extensive wards and found the two men, naked and intertwined on Snape’s bed, too far gone with passion and pleasure to notice the smiling headmaster who had unwittingly interrupted them. Returning to Snape’s sitting room, Dumbledore ordered up some food and drink for the two men and set their Orders of Merlin First Class medals on either side of the food tray. Then, he left the men to their own celebrations.

The world could wait for its heroes.


End file.
